


Feeling Better Ever Since

by somanyopentabs



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Collars, D/s universe, Dom/sub, Everyone Thinks They're Together, Get Together, M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyopentabs/pseuds/somanyopentabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint isn't a very submissive sub, but after Loki's mind control, he's required to have a Dom in order to stay in the field. Clint chooses Bruce, who is just about the gentlest, caring Dom ever to him.</p><p>(Originally posted at the kink meme.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeling Better Ever Since

“So, I wanted to ask, if, you know. If you’d sign on to be my Dom. Or think about it, yeah? Take your time. Don’t answer right away, okay?”

Bruce stared at Clint, who was shifting restlessly in front of him, fiddling with a knife and looking anywhere except Bruce’s eyes.

“You’re a sub?” Bruce said, finally, incredulously. 

“Uh, yeah.”

“You don’t...you’re not...what I mean is, you don’t seem very...”

“Submissive?” Clint supplied helpfully.

“Right.” Bruce took off his glasses and began to clean them thoroughly.

“Well, newsflash. Yours truly is definitely a sub, and I’ve been given exactly forty-eight hours to find myself a Dom on this team before I get assigned to receive general mandatory disciplinary sessions, and I’ll be honest here—I’m not really a fan of that idea.”

“But...you didn’t have a Dom before...”

Clint sighed and rubbed at his temples. “I was pretty much left to my own devices before Loki snagged my brain and turned me into his personal archer. Fury’s trying to give me an out, here, but I...he’s a busy man...he doesn’t have time to make sure no one decides to take my issues into their own hands...”

“Oh. I’m...sorry.” Bruce put his glasses back on his face. “Um. So, why are you asking me?”

“Uh, well.” Clint flushed a little under Bruce’s scrutiny. “You know, you seem like a decent guy.”

“Clint,” Bruce said in his most serious voice. “I’m not exactly the most...stable Dom in the world, and that’s putting it lightly. If you’re looking for someone on the team, why don’t you just ask Steve?”

Clint looked at Bruce like he was crazy. “Um, how about ‘hell no’? Have you seen Steve? That man could break a tree in half with his fists. There’s no way I’m ever letting him even think about taking a paddle to my ass. I’m a sub, not a masochist.”

“All right,” Bruce said, trying not dwell on the imagery Clint’s words had provided. “What about Natasha?”

“She’s my best friend. I can’t ask her to do that. Besides, she likes doing things a certain way...and...you know...it’s complicated. We just don’t work like that.”

“And Tony?” Bruce offered, a little desperately.

Clint rolled his eyes, then said, “I can’t roll my eyes far back enough to describe how I feel about that. Not if he was the last Dom on Earth. Which leaves you, and Thor. Thor’s not even on this planet right now, which just leaves you.”

“I see.”

“Look, I mean, it doesn’t have to be an imposition on you or whatever. You just collar me, we go on with life as normal. If you gotta punish me for something, we can do that. Whatever you’re cool with. And you’d be doing me a real favor.” Clint looked at him beseechingly from under his eyelashes.

“What if I say no?” Bruce asked, curiosity warring with his natural dominant urges—urges that were telling him, beyond all reason, that he should give Clint a chance and help him.

Clint’s face fell, obviously fearing that he’d already failed at convincing Bruce. “Well, like I said, I get to fill out paperwork that says I get three disciplinary sessions a week, minimum. Nothing I can’t handle, of course,” he added, going for bravado at the last moment.

“Okay,” Bruce said, only partially surprising himself.

“Yeah, figured you wouldn’t go for it,” Clint said, disappointed and turning away.

“No!” Bruce’s exclamation shocked Clint into turning back to him immediately.

“I mean, okay, Clint,” Bruce explained. “We can, uh, give this a try.”

“Really?” Clint’s eyes were wide with hope.

“Yeah. I’m not promising that I’ll be the perfect Dom for you, but I’ll try.”

“That’s—thank you, Bruce. You don’t know what this—thank you. I’ll, uh, I’ll get the paperwork sorted, you won’t have to do anything. I promise, I’ll be the most well-behaved poster-boy sub ever. You won’t regret this. I mean it.”

Bruce watched Clint practically sprint out of the room. He wondered what he’d just gotten himself into.

 

-  
-  
-

 

The next day, Clint brought him papers to sign. Bruce signed them dutifully, and presented Clint with a simple, thin black collar that fit comfortably around his neck.

“Aw, you don’t have anything in purple?” Clint asked, running his fingers along the collar and glancing at Bruce almost nervously.

“I could find you a new one, if you like.”

“No,” Clint said quickly, drawing back and staring at Bruce with eyes that were far from calm. “No, this is great. I love it. Who even wears a purple collar anyway? That would be...impractical.”

“All right,” Bruce said evenly.

“Do you, um, need anything?” Clint asked, clutching the freshly signed papers to his chest with one hand, while the other remained on his collar.

“Like what?”

“Like...you know. Anything?” Clint was practically radiating with nervous energy. He was downright twitchy. 

“I’m fine, Clint. Thank you for asking. Listen, why don’t you take a few days to get used to the collar, and we’ll talk when you feel comfortable?”

“Yeah? Yeah, okay, thanks.” Clint beamed at him. “I’m just gonna...” Clint let his sentence trail off before scurrying out of Bruce’s sight.

 

-  
-  
-

 

Four days later, Clint came and found Bruce in his lab. Bruce had been keeping busy, so he hadn’t exactly been wondering too much about Clint’s whereabouts, but he had to admit he was relieved when Clint wandered casually into the room, still wearing the collar. He was carrying a gym bag, which he set on the floor before pulling a chair up to the lab counter and taking a seat. He was a little sweaty, and Bruce put two and two together.

“Been working out?” Bruce asked.

Clint laughed. “More like getting my ass handed to me, but yeah. Sparring with Steve and Natasha.”

“You should hit the showers,” Bruce said kindly, but Clint still surprised him by looking hurt by his choice of words. “Not that I don’t want to see you. Was there something you wanted to talk about right now?”

“Not exactly. Steve, uh. Steve was saying how it was nice that I had a Dom now, and it made me think. Everyone knows I’m wearing your collar now. Well, except Tony, but he’s in Malibu. It doesn’t bother you?”

“That Tony’s in Malibu?”

“That everyone’s gonna know I’m wearing your collar. I mean, obviously it doesn’t bother me, it was my idea. I just—what do you want me to say to people?”

“You’re...worried what everyone will think?”

“Well, not worried, exactly. And I tell Natasha everything, so she’s not in the dark. But you know how Steve can get—old-fashioned about things. And Tony, once he hears the news—“

“I can handle Tony,” Bruce said. He sat down on a chair opposite Clint and put his hand over his. “Is this okay?”

“Sure, yeah. Touch me all you want,” Clint said, then looked away, awkwardly.

“Clint. Look at me.” Bruce waited until he had Clint’s full attention to continue. “I’m not unused to people speculating about my personal life. It’s okay.”

“Okay. Good. Um, Bruce?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna go hit the showers now.”

 

-  
-  
-

 

When Tony came back from Malibu, two days later, he found Bruce immediately and demanded to know why he wasn’t told about Bruce and Clint’s new arrangements.

“So, now that I’m here,” Tony said finally, finishing his dramatic speech on the subject. “You’ve got to tell me all the details. Is he good for you? He seems like he’d be a brat at first, but I bet you keep him in line.”

“Clint doesn’t need anyone to keep him in line, Tony,” Bruce explained.

“He seems like the kind of guy who’s a huge tease, too,” Tony continued. 

“Tony—“

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop speculating. I’ll just go get my information elsewhere.”

 

-  
-  
-

 

Clint arrived in Bruce’s lab later that day. “Tony’s back.”

Bruce smirked to himself. “I know.”

“He hacked his way into the archery range just to ask me about my sex life.”

“He does tend to do that, yes.”

“Bruce?” 

Bruce stopped what he was doing and looked closely at Clint, who was staring at him, warily. “Is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong. I guess, uh. I just wanted to say—I’m pretty comfortable wearing your collar, now. If there’s anything you wanted...”

“...Yes?”

“I—would you like to have a sex life? That is, uh, unless you’re already seeing other subs, which, you know, is completely fair, and silly of me to assume you wouldn’t—because you could. Not that I would—I mean, I’m not messing around with anyone.”

Bruce took a moment to answer. “No. No, there hasn’t been—before you offered, I hadn’t been remotely involved with anyone for years.”

“Oh. Good. I mean, um. That sucks, I guess.”

“I get by,” Bruce said, wry and amused.

“Same for me. About getting by, I mean. And the not-having-anyone.”

Bruce felt like there was more Clint wanted to say, so he waited patiently.

“So,” Clint said eventually. “That brings me to my original point. Which, here goes. I’m a pretty attractive guy, right? And you’re also an attractive guy. You’ve got that whole mysterious Dom thing going on, and you don’t try too much to seem like a hard-ass, which is a breath of fresh air. I’m wearing your collar, and everyone already thinks we’re doing it. So, want to?”

Bruce walked over so he could stand in front of Clint when he said what he needed to say. “I don’t own you, Clint. You belong to me, yes, but you’re not some _thing_ I can claim ownership of.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because I don’t want you offering yourself to me if you think that’s your only option. I won’t take advantage of you, Clint. You’re my teammate and my friend, first and foremost.”

“Thought I was your sub, first,” Clint said, a little shakily.

“You don’t consider us friends?”

“Yeah, no, I do. That’s—that’s really cool, actually.” Clint was looking at him like he was saying something completely unheard of, like Clint could barely believe his ears.

“So, how about we spend some time together? Maybe get dinner, see a film?”

“That...that sounds nice.”

 

-  
-  
-

 

Bruce took Clint out to a nice restaurant the following week. Clint was nervous up through the main course, and kept apologizing for putting his elbows on the table. It was oddly endearing.

“Would you like dessert?” Bruce asked at the end of the meal. Clint was doing his best to keep still and not make projectile weapons out of his untouched utensils.

“Nah, I’m good. Uh, thanks for dinner.”

Bruce paid the check and they walked out of the restaurant together, their arms brushing.

“So, I checked the listings for the theater nearby. A couple films looked promising, if you’d like to go?”

Clint grinned shyly and shrugged. “Sure. I, uh, haven’t been to a movie in forever.”

They wound up flipping a coin to decide between two films, an action and a comedy. The comedy won out, and Bruce was glad. Clint’s laughter was contagious, and the earlier nervousness of the evening ebbed away.

Once the credits began to roll, Bruce was loath to stand up. Clint had dropped his head onto Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce’s hand had found its way to settle on Clint’s knee.

“Hey,” Bruce whispered, and Clint startled for a moment, but Bruce didn’t move his hand. “Just stay for a minute?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Will you go on another date with me?”

Clint made a noise. “We’re dating?” he asked hopefully.

“I’d like to be. I like you. You’re cute, and funny—oh, and how was it that you put it? A pretty attractive guy?”

Clint giggled. “Well, I’d like to think so, anyway.”

“I think so,” Bruce said simply.

“Can I, um. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Ask whatever you like.”

“It’s not—I’m not really sure how to ask. You’re, uh. You’re really nice to me?”

Bruce blinked a couple times. “Is that a question?”

“Er—kind of. You planning to be not-so-nice to me in the future?”

Bruce rubbed a thumb soothingly over the top of Clint’s thigh. “Are you trying to ask me about discipline, Clint?” Bruce thought back to that first conversation. Clint had seemed overly concerned about being punished, and that kind of broke Bruce’s heart a little. But he was a Dom at heart, and from experience he knew that most subs needed some type of discipline, if not outright punishment.

“Yeah.” Clint’s voice was only a whisper in the darkness of the theater, empty but for the two of them. “Sorry to ruin the mood. But, hey, a guy likes to know what he’s in for...”

“Well, first off, I should apologize to you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because, I agreed to this, and then I left you on your own. I should have had this discussion with you already, not left you on your own to worry about it. And for that, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset or anything,” Clint protested, tucking his head under Bruce’s chin.

“Well, that’s good. But we still need to talk, about what you expect from me, and what my expectations are for you. I haven’t had a sub in a long time, Clint. I want to take care of you, but what kind of Dom can I be for you if I don’t fully trust myself?”

“I trust you,” Clint said solemnly. His lips brushed warm against Bruce’s neck. “I fight on the same team as you. I live in the same tower as you. You won’t—you won’t harm me. I know you won’t, Bruce.”

“What if—“

“Please. Please don’t say you don’t want to—I had a really nice time tonight, with you. I like wearing your collar. I don’t get half as many shitty remarks from other Doms now, either, and that sounds really childish, I’m sorry—“

“Clint, it’s okay.” Bruce took his hand off Clint’s leg and brought his arm around Clint so he could hold him closer. “It’s okay to be bothered by what people say.”

“I like the way you talk to me, like I’m an actual fucking human being,” Clint muttered bitterly, so that Bruce had to wonder just how badly Clint had been treated by other Doms. “Just ‘cause I’m a sub doesn’t mean I’m a slut, either. I don’t just—I don’t just get on my knees for anyone.”

“I never thought that about you.” Bruce ran a hand through Clint’s soft short hair.

 

-  
-  
-

 

Back at the tower, Bruce took Clint back to his floor and said goodnight.

“You don’t want to come in?” Clint’s puzzled expression was mixed with relief.

“Not tonight. I think you’re gorgeous, and I’d love to skip a few steps, but I think in the long run, it’s better that we don’t rush anything.”

Clint’s eyes were shining, and he replied, “That means a lot to me, actually. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“A kiss wouldn’t be rushing things, would it?”

Bruce leaned forward, and Clint grabbed at him and dragged him close until their lips were pressed together. Clint moaned softly into the kiss and let Bruce walk him backwards until he was trapped up against the door. When Bruce at last pulled away, Clint was breathing hard, and his face was flush with emotion.

“Was that okay?” Bruce asked.

“Oh, yeah.” 

Bruce smiled. “Have a good night, Clint.”

Clint touched his fingertips to his collar, blew Bruce a kiss, and slipped inside his door.

Bruce turned away, and then turned back when he heard the door reopen. Clint bolted back out and kissed him again, quickly, and flashed him a grin. “For the record, I really like kissing you.”

“I like it, too,” Bruce answered, pleasantly surprised at Clint’s enthusiasm. He watched as Clint disappeared once again inside his apartment. Oh, he was going to have his hands full, and he didn’t mind that one bit.


End file.
